


Paramour

by SwordDraconis113



Series: Stolen Earth [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordDraconis113/pseuds/SwordDraconis113
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lost in the universe, Natalia thinks back on everything that was wrong (right) in her and Evangeline's relationship</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paramour

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Red Reach universe. Set after the book, and before.

She thinks of her in a bed that’s not her own. She thinks of her as she lies next to someone, when another girl’s kissing her, when she’s kissing someone else. She thinks of her in the hospital, in the ships, when she’s staring out at the podium, looking down at the council.

She thinks of her with love and hate.

Evangeline is wrong for her in so many ways. She made her simultaneously hate and love herself. She would rise her up and crush her down, all with tearing fingernails and trembling lips. She would pick and pry, learn every detail in her head before discarding her out in the doorstep, underwear stuffed in her pocket.

More than once she’d been fucked in the middle of the day. In the bathroom, in a changing stall, even in public beneath desks and tables. All long fingers and a pressing thumb. Then, as soon as she’s come -- quietly with a hissing breath and blissful scream swallowed beneath red lips, or her own white teeth -- She’d be left in the public area, underwear damp or around her ankles, her hair knotted and fucked while _She,_ her love, kisses her lips softly, reapplies her lipstick and leaves her as she suckles teasingly on her own fingers.

Thinking of her now made her forget how to breathe, and her thighs squeeze tight. It made her crave her like an alcoholic for another glass. She was a disease, a corruption but _God_ , she tasted like a wood fire, dark chocolate and red wine.

Natalia remembered the dark, lonely nights when she’d get a text, a phone call. It’d only be a short walk, a bus trip and moments later she’d have arrived at a white door where she was pulled inside.

Clothes were torn from her as the game begun, and soon, lying against silk sheets, a hand would encase around her neck, holding her still and pinning her to the bed. Evangeline’s fingers would run over her, studying her body before she’d grow impatient and slide her fingers inside. She’d rock into the movement, burying in and out, pushing, feeling, driving her close and closer and closer until-

They’d fall back, sliding out slickly to ride up her thigh and rest damp on her waist, as Natalia’s own unclenched from the sheets, her hips falling back. There was a desperate cry on her lips, trembling and twisted black in her chest as she’d feel sweat trickle down her back, dripping against her thigh and face. She was so desperate, so close. So broken.

It’d feel like hours beneath her hands, her playing with her, moulding her to say the right words, begging in her ear _just_ how she wanted, just to get that peak and fall helplessly, arched beneath her.

But it was all worth it, so it seemed, to feel those lips press against her, that sigh on her lips as they whispered their love. Maybe Evangeline’s was fake, misunderstood, but she had lived for those false words.

But nothing. Not the orgasms she received, not the kisses and warm words, beat Evangeline’s face when she’d slide her legs over hers, settling her damp sex down onto a thigh, her knee pressing against her love’s.

It was a slow start, teasing. Most of which she’d learnt and copied from Evangeline, but she’d practice each event, learn to use her fingers, her lips and teeth as she’d eventually move her head between her legs, parting the legs even as she whispered, “spread them wider.”

The brave words, false confidence grew truer and prouder with each fuck, as she was rewarded with damp heat. “A little wider,” she’d say again, looking up and seeing her woman, her dominating goddess, pliant beneath her. Deliciously, the roles were reversed in a little game where she pretended she was better than Evangeline’s other lovers.

She was the Queen to her Angel’s love and desire.

She’d start slow, kissing around with small licks. Tasting the area. Discovering it before she moved higher. Tongue on clit, she slide a finger over the entrance, feel a subtle clench before stroking again and again, her teeth moving over the bud between her lips, tongue flicking over it playfully. It was all clumsy at first, but she learnt her body, learnt under instructions, at first, how to move.

Experimentations with trial and error payed off in her favor eventually. And now she knew how to fuck her pretty little Angel, until she was the one saying _please_.

At the end, there was always another round. Evangeline wanted to be on top, wanted to be the last one to dominate.

She’d be forced on all fours as Evangeline took her from behind, telling her to _never_ forget her place, never forget that she was replaceable. They were soft words, whispered with love. Her heart still beats as she remembers them and oh god she wants Evangeline now, wants her with her, to show her her place, because it was so easy then. So easy to remember the safe words, to scream beneath her touch and hide from Evangeline’s husband.

It was so easy being the submissive paramour, and she craved it more than ever.

Evangeline was so _wrong_ for her. But she made it right.


End file.
